Quintessential Miscreant and Marauder
by Bedraggled Atelier 2
Summary: AU In the 1920s, after Remus was diagnosed with a magical handicap, he decides to become a Hogwarts Apprentice Caretaker to remain in the Wizarding World, but it was never his plan to pose as a student nor fall for Sirius Black. SLASH Wolfstar SBRL


Like most children from wizarding families, Remus was raised with the expectation that he would attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but unlike most in his family, Remus had never displayed a talent for magic and had never received his admissions letter to the esteemed magic school. Nevertheless, over the years, he had never lost hope that his Hogwarts letter would one day arrive, even though he was much older than your average recipient.

On the first of September 1919, while muggles were struggling with the aftermath of their Great War, Remus and his wizarding family were struggling with more trivial concerns, like how to operate a muggle vehicle without the use of magic.

From his seat in the back, Remus sat uncomfortably in his stiff Muggle clothes, a button up shirt that was just as complicated to wear as this vehicle was to start and trousers that were ridiculously constraining on the legs. He wondered why his parents had insisted on traveling by road, using a muggle vehicle called a car, when they could have chosen the more efficient mode of transportation: the Floo System.

"We'd get there faster if we used the Floo," Remus suggested when the car failed to start. His parents had purchased the car used, so he was not surprised that the car was more damaged than the new coating of paint suggested.

"We don't need the Floo, only the manual," his father replied, reaching for the lightly bound manual sitting on the dashboard and flipping through it. "Insert the key - yes. Turn to ignite the engines. Alright."

"Maybe it needs gas," his mother suggested from her seat beside him.

"No, no, already has enough gas. Fed it after we bought it."

While his parents were busy reading the manual, his twin brother Romulus was sitting at the far left of the car, roasting in the torrid heat of September in his Hogwarts uniform. Usually, students donned their full uniform on the train, but here was his brother doing the complete opposite - wearing cloak and all.

With the scarlet and gold colors, Romulus looked every bit like a Gryffindor, a house founded by the brave and courageous Godric Gryffindor. Remus felt a twinge of envy at the sight of his brother in his uniform. They were supposed to be identical twins but possessed an unequal distribution of magic, leaving Romulus to receive a formal education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry while Remus was homeschooled by their parents.

Homeschool was similar to lessons Romulus received at Hogwarts. At least, Remus hoped. Lessons were entirely about the wizarding world but only the theoretical side of magic (for when his magical abilities developed, they had hoped) - Herbology, Magical Creatures, History of Magic, and Astronomy - subjects that dealt with very little practical magic. But last week, along with many changes to the curriculum, his parents introduced their non-wizard son to Muggle History, which led Remus to suspect that his parents were trying to indoctrinate him into the Muggle World.

Romulus glanced towards him. "How do I look?"

His brother was supposed to look like him. They were mirror images of each other at birth but were now becoming more and more different with age. At 15, Remus was a wiry youth of average height with tan wavy hair - unlike his twin brother Romulus, who had grown a couple of inches over the summer and was now gangly and tall with broad shoulders and long arms - the perfect physique for a Quidditch keeper, which he was for one season so far.

"Personally," Remus began, pushing his feelings aside. He was happy for his brother, just not today. Today, he had to tag along with his family to see his brother off at the trains, knowing that he would never be able to set foot in Hogwarts, unlike the other three. "I think it's too hot for a cloak."

Romulus shrugged. "Keeping it on anyway."

Their mother sighed in frustration. A long sigh.

"Don't start bickering, boys," she urged them. "We haven't even left the cottage yet."

"We weren't bickering," Remus argued.

After half an hour, his parents deemed the car broken and in need of wizarding magic, so Remus's father whipped out his wand and whispered a few words to animate the vehicle. It wheezed and puffed (like an old, dying cat) before coming to life with a light rumble. Once working, Remus's father put the newly repaired car to drive and slowly pushed the gas pedals, easing the vehicle into the dirt roads of the countryside.

On the road, they drove past their secluded cottage until it was a tiny spec in the middle of green hills and through muggle towns lined with red brick country houses, many captured by twining vines of ivy. Occasionally, they would spot muggles walking to and fro on their early morning stroll through the town. Remus stayed silent the entire time, his head resting on the glass as the sight of blurred cobblestone walkways flickered by.

Every year, he had waited for the letter to arrive, and every year, it never did. So that summer, his parents took him to St. Mungo's Hospital for a diagnosis. In that sterile room with white walls and beige floors, Remus and his parents waited for his turn, waited while his magical core was tested, and waited for the medic to announce his test results. The medic looked sympathetically at Remus before she announced the results, confirming what Remus had already suspected: there was something wrong with him. Remus was, the medic had explained, not quite a squib and not quite a wizard.

"What does that mean?" his father had asked, his brows furrowed in confusion, mirroring Remus's own confusion.

"Your son has a magical handicap," the medic explained. A magical handicap? Remus thought incredulously, very perplexed by the news. What were the odds? He had never even heard of wizards with a magical handicap. "As he's not a squib, he can perform magic, but he cannot perform most spells properly. For his safety and the safety of those around him, he should not be permitted to use any magic at all."

Remus felt his heart drop, felt it plummet into utter shock and then felt the sharp pangs of despair. No Hogwarts. No magic.

"What about his education?" his mother whispered to his father.

Remus looked up at his parents and then at the medic. He wanted to know too. He had always hoped that he would someday join his brother and all the other students his age at Hogwarts. Every year, he had waited for that letter. Now, it was clear why it had never arrived.

"We'll think of that later," his father responded, looking equally concerned now.

Over hearing their conversation, the medic asked, "How is he educated currently?"

"He's tutored entirely at home," his mother said.

"I'm sure you understand that magic is not permitted outside of school. As homeschooling is not a formal institution, it is illegal for your son to attempt magic for his education."

"We're aware," his father said.

"And Remus knows as well," said his mother, nodding in Remus's direction.

Since that diagnosis, his life began to unravel little by little, first his intention to attend Hogwarts and then the ambitions he had built up in the last 10 years. His parents, with only good intentions, tip toed around him like he would snap at any moment, but that required more energy than he had at the moment. He only felt drained and listless, fearful of the uncertain future looming ahead.

Meanwhile, his brother was taking the traditional route to becoming a wizarding adult, like every underage wizard in the Wizarding World: finishing up his studies at Hogwarts and passing his exams before starting work (most likely at The Ministry with their father, maybe even as his subordinate).

"Remus, Romulus," his mother asked halfway through their hour long trip to the trains. "Chocolates?"

Remus shook his head, negative, despondent again over his diagnosis but masking it with a happy smile. He shot his brother a look. When his brother failed to respond, Remus reached over and shook him by the shoulders.

"Hm?" Romulus responded as if pulled out of a stupor.

"Mum asked if you wanted some chocolate frogs," Remus said, nodding at their mother.

"Is it the normal kind? Or the muggle chocolates?"

"Muggle. Non-moving."

"No, I'm alright," Romulus said and returned to looking out the window. "You can have 'em."

Romulus hated Muggle chocolates. His brother found them to be too stale, more like rocks with added sugar. More rock than sugar. Remus, on the other hand, loved any type of chocolate, whether they melted on his tongue, sat like tough bricks against his cheeks like Muggle chocolates, or wiggled in his mouth the way chocolate frogs did.

Maybe he would make a good Muggle, Remus thought glumly. He had already adopted their taste for chocolates, which were very good but were undeniably low quality.

"You heard him," Remus said to their mother with smile, taking the chocolate bar. He broke off a small piece and handed the rest back to his mother. This stale, crusty chocolate, believe it or not, was a luxury in the Muggle World but were sold as cheap confections in the Wizarding World.

Very quickly, the trip to the capitol became an endless series of stone walled cottages and empty fields of foliage - almost like Wizarding photograph on repeat, except everything was in color. But that changed once they reached London.

Remus had seldom seen a car besides theirs in the sleepy muggle town in Yorkshire. Now, in London, they were everywhere, busy weaving past each other in the bustling city. Life in London, Remus thought, was organized chaos. There were rules of the road, he was sure, and unspoken rules - what you could get away with without receiving a fine, what risks you could take before a vehicle ran you over. Whatever those rules were, the muggles knew, but for the common wizard, like his father, toeing the line meant enduring frequent honking from the cars behind and in front.

For a while, the Lupin family was stuck in slow moving traffic, agitating Romulus, who began fretting that they would be late for the trains.

"What's the time?" Romulus asked Remus.

"We're not late," Remus replied after glancing at his watch - a muggle watch his parents gave him for his birthday. The time on the watch always read 10 minutes late, a problem he felt no need to fix, considering how difficult it was for him to set it in the first place.

When they had finally arrived at the station, Romulus bolted out the door and over to the rear of the car. Everyone exited the car much slower. By the time, they were out, Romulus made a dash for the station with his old fashioned trunks behind him, leaving their parents and Remus far behind.

His brother could always see them on the weekends at the Lupin's cornerstore in Hogsmeade Village, if he wanted, but if he were late to the trains, they would have to find other transportation to Hogwarts. No one knew if there were other ways to Hogwarts beside the train, as the castle was fortified against any form of teleportation, including apparition and portkeys.

Romulus entered through the glass entry way in a hurry. The older Lupins and Remus followed after him, still a few steps behind him.

The station was active with lines of people rushing past each other to reach their destination. Remus noticed that the station was also filled with wizards. The wizards were easy to spot among the crowds of muggles. Unlike the muggles, they almost always wore purple and green colored disguises, a kind of uniform that wizards donned while in the Muggle World.

Some wizards walked in groups, some alone. The group that past Remus wore robes and talked in hushed voices. "OWLs were tough last year-" Remus heard them say. He assumed they were speaking about their scores on the Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, abbreviated as OWLs, which his brother would be required to take, along with the NEWTs, before graduation.

His parents looked around, searching for his brother.

"Do you see Romulus?" his mother asked.

"Think he's gone," his father replied. "I'm sure he found his way. Been here more than once, you know."

"It does look like it, doesn't it?" his mother replied hesitantly. "We should be heading off to Diagon Alley then. I'd like to get home before the evening."

The family turned to leave but stopped when his mother gasped.

"Money for the trolley," his mother wailed suddenly. "I've forgotten to give it to him! Remus," his mother said, pulling out a few coins from her pocket. "give this to your brother. Hurry!" Remus took the coins and pocketed them. "You might be able to catch him!"

Remus turned and ran into the station, walking around a few older women with the strangest plumes in their oversized hats. Enormous feathers the size of three human heads. Griffin feathers, Remus assumed. They walked slowly and stiffly with proud faces, so slowly that a stream of people had to walk around them to get by.

Remus looked around, scanning the numbered signs for Platform 9. It was down the far end of the hall with white letters on black, where his brother should have disappeared. He strode over to it and bounded up the stairs, squinting as sunlight poured over him.

Romulus was half way to Platform 9 and 3/4, the gateway to the Hogwarts Express.

"Romulus!" his mother called from behind Remus, urging his brother to stop as she was making her up the stairs.

"I'm going to be late!" Romulus explained loudly.

"Wait for Remus," his mother cried.

"Remus?" Romulus asked, confused. "Why, Remus? He's not going to Hogwarts."

Remus wished he could stop hearing that, both in his head and from everyone else.

Romulus looked at Remus, who was approaching his brother, panting from the overexertion. "Money for the trolley," Remus said, still breathing heavily, holding out the coins.

Romulus took the coins. "Thanks."

"Wait," his mother said again, hobbling over to her son, looking more exhausted than Remus. Romulus sighed. "Just give me a hug," their mother said, walking over to the small crowd that had gathered around the brick wall. Romulus groaned in frustration but made his way towards their mother for a brief farewell hug.

"Take care, Mum," Romulus said as he wrapped his arms around her. Then, he beamed at Remus, patted their mother on the shoulders with both hands, and ran headlong into Platform 9 and 3/4, disappearing behind the brick walls.

"We should take the Floo back," Remus suggested. She looked tired, more fragile than he had ever seen her. He wondered if the long car ride had been too taxing on her. "You don't look well."

His mother smiled and said, "Worry about yourself."

Remus did worry a lot these days.

He worried about his future in the Wizarding World. He knew his parents wanted him to integrate with the Muggles, as they were closer to his kind - if being human and without magic made them part of a group, but the Muggle World was too strange for Remus. Their clothes were too stiff for daily wear; their photographs, surprisingly, remained stationary like still paintings - archaic compared to the Wizarding World. But more importantly, to even understand them, he had to learn an entirely different history from Wizarding Lore and pick up social mores that were tough to decipher to begin with. He felt alien to their ways and even more so after his parents' attempts to introduce him to the Muggle World.

"I will," Remus reassured her. Then, he noticed his father's absence. "Where's Dad?"

"He's already at Diagon Alley," his mother explained, turning to leave. "Couldn't be bothered to run after you two. We'll be heading there too. For supplies for the shop."

"Can we go home afterwards?" Remus asked hopefully. "By Floo?"

His mother sighed sadly. Her eyes lingered on his face. Remus was sure she was thinking somewhere along the lines of: Maybe he wouldn't make such a good muggle after all. Then, she said, "I'll need you to drop everything off at Hogsmeade, but afterwards, you can take the Floo from the shop to the cottage."

Remus sighed in relief.

"You should learn to enjoy cars, Remus," she chided. "They're everywhere these days, even in the Wizarding World. At least, Muggle vehicles have a speed limit. Ours zaps from one destination to the next."

As his mother made her way down the stairs, two adolescents around Remus's age sprinted up the stairs. One had a bird nest for hair and the other curly black hair and handsome features. They had to be here for the Hogwarts Express, Remus thought as he walked past them. Both possessed a certain mischievous fey quality about them that muggles lacked.

"Do you think we missed it?" said a bespectacled youth with messy hair, which Remus thought could have been easily tamed by a comb.

"Think we might have, James," said his friend, a handsome teen with curly black hair. He spotted Remus at the bottom of the stairs and asked, "Hello, do you know the time?"

"Should be almost 11," Remus said as he lifted his wrist to check his watch. "Ten til eleven."

"We're fine. We have 10 minutes," said the handsome youth to his friend James. Then, to Remus, his said, gratefully, "Thanks."

"No problem," Remus said with a smile.

"Scary," said James as they darted past Remus. "Imagine if we were late."

But they were late, Remus realized later.

His watch was always 10 minutes late, meaning that Platform 9 and 3/4 had already closed.

2994 words/4000 words or 3000 or 2500


End file.
